Veni Vidi Amavi
by CharlotteAshmore
Summary: "A real man don't need toys t' satisfy his woman." –Daryl Dixon "Yeah? Show me." –Carol Peletier
1. Tempers and Tantrums

Smutfest 3.0

 **Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. This is a work of pure fiction. All characters and events depicted in this story are entirely fictitious. Any similarity to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

 **Tags** : *Daryl Dixon/Carol Peletier, *Tara Chambler, *Rosita Espinosa, *Michonne, *Glenn Rhee, *Maggie Greene, *Rick Grimes, *Nine Lives Challenge, *Smutfest 3.0, *Season 5B, *Angst, *Humor, *Smut

 **Summary** : "A real man don't need toys t' satisfy his woman." –Daryl Dixon

"Yeah? Show me." –Carol Peletier

 **A/n** : I tried to find a good spot in the timeline for this, but it was all pretty hopeless (maybe 5Bish), so I'm asking y'all to bend canon with me here into the very slightly AU realm. Really hope y'all enjoy.

 **Warning** : Sexual situations, Dixon mouth, and all-around smuttiness. So, if that's not your thing, you really shouldn't read.

Veni Vidi Amavi

(We Came. We Saw. We Loved.)

By:

CharlotteAshmore

Part I : Tempers and Tantrums

Daryl Dixon drummed his fingers nervously against the steering wheel of the van, impatient for the gates to the community to open and let them through. He was tired and irritable and more than a little angry Rick had volunteered them for this run to prove to Deanna they were the type of hardworking people she wanted to help Alexandria thrive. He was well past the point in his life where he felt he needed to prove anything to anyone. Much less these snobs who'd probably never worked a day in their lives and would perish if they were forced to step outside the fortified walls.

He hated it here. Strangers at every turn, everyone nagging him to try to fit in, and most of all … damn, if he didn't miss his bike. It chafed he'd had to leave it behind. There was the potential to build another right there in Aaron's garage, but he still wondered if he should accept such a gift. There would surely be a price attached to such a project, and it left him pondering whether it would be too steep to pay. His pride refused to accept owing someone. He wasn't Merle … he always paid his debts.

The gate finally opened, ushering the van – as well as two other pickup trucks – through before slamming shut behind them. Daryl drove past the two houses their group had been allotted, heading slowly towards Olivia's where the pantry and armory were kept.

"Daryl –"

"Not now, Rick," the archer growled his displeasure. Had it been anyone aside from a member of his family, they wouldn't have picked up on the unrest humming beneath his skin, the need to escape and lose himself in the woods so prevalent in his mind.

Rick continued to study his brother, knowing he shouldn't have agreed to bring Deanna's sons – nor their dear friend Nicholas – on the run. "I know today wasn't easy on you –"

Daryl turned in his seat to cast the full-impact of his fulminating glare on their leader. "S'that right?" he asked, channeling his inner Merle who wanted to punch Rick square in the face. "What clued y' in?"

Rick opened his mouth, but Daryl cut him off before he could even begin.

"That strip mall shoulda been easy work, an hour tops. But no … y' had t' bring th' moron triplets along," he hissed, turning to look over his shoulder at said idiots where they sat in the back, ruddy with intense mortification and listening to every word. He made it worse by pointing a long grubby finger in their direction. "So, tell me … what clued y' in, huh? Was it when Mr I-know-everything-about-runs pushed that walker onto Glenn t' save his own ass, or when his buddy here ran off towards th' woods, screamin' like a bitch an' drawin' more walkers right t' us? Because o' them, we coulda all been killed. This ain't happenin' again. There ain't no way our people are goin' out there with 'em on another run."

Rick turned to look at the three seated behind him as Daryl threw himself out of the van. "You three … report to Deanna, NOW!"

Aiden smirked triumphantly, while Spencer looked worried. "What are you going to tell her happened out there?" he asked Rick, ignoring the others.

Nicholas shrugged. "We got the job done," he said, nodding over back to the beds of the trucks full of supplies.

"I'm going to tell her the truth, and if she's as smart as I think she is, she won't be sending the three of you on anymore runs until you've been properly trained."

Daryl snorted as he passed Rick, his arms laden with two flats of canned goods, making his ways into the pantry. Let his brother deal with those assholes. All he could think of was how much he wanted to get home to Carol, which truly surprised him with the way she'd been acting since they'd arrived. Weird was the first word which came to mind.

She hadn't been the same since she'd saved them from Terminus, something eating away at her, but she refused to talk about it. He didn't want to pry, afraid if he did, it would just push her further away. It bothered him she wouldn't open up to him. Since they'd arrived in Alexandria, she'd taken on this new persona … one which, if he were honest, scared the hell out of him. The smiles she wore were so fake she could do the ad campaign for every toothpaste brand which had been on the market before the fall of civilization. He couldn't imagine why she wanted to keep these people in the dark as to who she really was, but he didn't like it one bit.

The worst of it was … the more she lost herself in her happy homemaker routine, the more he felt he was losing her.

Daryl set the last stack of boxes down in the middle of the garage and stretched his back, eyeing Olivia and Jessie as they each held a notebook and pen, ready to begin cataloguing the supplies his team had brought in. He could read the signs of abuse on the strawberry blonde, and he really couldn't blame her for wanting a few hours away from home. Rick made his way over to him, and Daryl stifled a groan.

"Aaron and Eric are going to bring the vehicles back around to the parking area, so you can head home if you want," he offered solicitously, hoping to make up for some of the tension which now existed between himself and his brother. "I'm sure Carol's probably done with casserole duty for the day."

The hunter's eyes narrowed, too tired to try to figure out what Rick was getting at. "Fine. Y' goin' t' Deanna's t' tell her what useless assholes she raised?"

Rick ducked his head to hide his grin before giving Daryl a side-eyed glance. "Yeah, something like that. Get some rest, brother."

Daryl set off up the sidewalk, ignoring Tara and Rosita as they giggled several feet ahead of him. His thoughts drifted back to Carol, where they inevitably strayed whenever he had time to let his mind wander.

He'd thought it would be good for her to come here … safe. He'd do anything to protect her, including giving up his sense of freedom so she could have walls to shield her.

They'd been in Alexandria for a week and he was beginning to see he might've been wrong. He'd nearly fallen off the porch railing that first day when she'd come out of the house dressed in slacks and a cardigan. She'd been no less beautiful in her new clothes, but … they weren't _his_ Carol. She was still in there, buried beneath her act, yet it pained him to see her trying so hard to fit in. If the townsfolk knew half of which she was capable, they'd turn and _run_ in the opposite direction.

Though she wouldn't talk to him about the things bothering her, she'd spent that first night wedged between himself and the wall as he'd kept watch at the window, her cheek smooshed against his shoulder where she'd felt safest. The following day, she'd picked out her room upstairs – commandeering the master with the ensuite and smiling sweetly at Rick as she'd done it - deciding it would be best to remain with Rick, Michonne and the children. It was the same room where she'd stored his pack. He'd taken it as a sign she wanted him with her.

But why did she want him there? He'd asked himself that question a million times, a question which remained unanswered. She was his best friend, just as he was hers. She trusted him to keep her safe – though she was capable of taking care of herself – and relied on him to keep the nightmares at bay. But was that all there was to it? Daryl had hoped things would change after he'd gotten her back in the aftermath of Terminus, but then Grady had happened, and the entire group had been broken. He'd hoped again when they'd been offered a place within the community, he and Carol could have another chance. He just needed to find a way in. Something easier said than done, he thought as he stalked up the front steps of the house and knocked the dirt off his boots before going inside.

Daryl closed the door behind him, wincing as the sound of excited feminine squealing met his ears. He wondered if he was hungry enough to brave the kitchen where the women were gathered. His stomach growled, prompting him to take a chance, and he only paused briefly in the archway – deeming it safe enough – before heading to the stove. The delectable smell of mac and cheese accompanied with seared rabbit was too much to resist.

Carol raised on her toes to see over her circle of friends, casting a warm smile his way when she saw him wolfing down his food. He gave her a nod of thanks before she turned to Tara, laughing at something she'd said. It was good to see her smiling affectionately at the girl, more herself than he'd seen her act in quite a while.

He fetched himself a glass of water, downing the cool beverage and setting his dishes in the sink. It was only then his curiosity got the better of him and sent him closer to the table to see what was making the warrior women of his family so giggly.

Michonne held up a bright purple teddy and pressed it over her clothes, turning this way and that for maximum effect. "I think I like this one," she murmured thoughtfully, glancing up at the others for their opinions.

Rosita nodded, fighting with the packaging on the adult toy she wanted to inspect more closely. "I like it … compliments your skin tone."

A mischievous smirk curled the corner of Tara's lips as she stopped digging through the pile spread out on the table. "Hmm … I wonder what our fearless leader would think to see you wielding your katana wearing nothing but that … and maybe some fuzzy heels to match."

Carol's hands fluttered over the less garish scraps of underthings, her lips pressing into a thin line as she fought to hide a laugh.

Daryl's eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he glanced down at the mess - an array of dildos, vibrators, anal plugs and beads, cuffs, collars, bottles of lube, massage oil, nipple clamps and more than a few things he had never seen before - his face blushing a brilliant shade of scarlet. Embarrassment flew out the window as he met Tara's gaze head-on. "This is what y' got outta that shop?!" he fairly roared, startling them all. "Y' was s'posed t' be looking for underwear for –"

"We did," Rosita protested, shaking a lurid purple dildo in his direction. She then pointed to the piles of bras and lacy knickers, teddies and camisoles, and some things which left little to the imagination. "It was a good haul, but the store offered other things, too."

Tara shook her head. "C'mon, dude, you men aren't the only ones who have needs."

By this point, Daryl's face was mottled with rage. He leaned over the table until he was right in the girl's face, furious blues flashing. "Glenn almost died t'day. Y' really think Maggie woulda been worried about toys if he hadn't come back? Get your fuckin' priorities straight!"

"Daryl," Michonne murmured quietly, "she didn't mean anything by it."

Tears welled in Tara's eyes, her mouth gaping open and closed, but she couldn't find the words to defend her actions. She'd thought it would be fun to have some stress relief for those who liked to play outside the box. Why not take a few things when they'd hung so conveniently on a back wall of the shop? "I … I'm sorry …"

Daryl snorted and pushed himself away, ignoring Carol's disapproving stare. Without a word, he stalked from the kitchen and stormed up the stairs to the bedroom he shared with her, the door rattling in its frame as it slammed behind him.

*.*.*

Carol paused with her hand on the door knob and sighed heavily. She'd had to comfort Tara, promising she'd talk to Daryl. He owed her an apology for yelling if nothing else. The table had been cleared, Michonne coming up with the brilliant idea to have a community-wide FUN party later in the week, inviting all the ladies – and a few men – to come over, play games, and divvy up the risqué items Tara and Rosita had brought back from the supply run. She'd tried not to blush too badly when Tara had explained a FUN party was a bit like Avon … only they would sell adult toys instead of makeup. Gawd! She'd have to remember to volunteer for an extra shift on watch when all that went down. Though, when Daryl found out what was going on in their home, he'd most likely try to burn the house down.

She took a deep steadying breath and pushed the door open, gathering what patience she possessed to fortify her. It was never easy dealing with her dearest friend – even on a good day – much less on a bad one. It had been clear how badly the scene downstairs had embarrassed him, but she didn't think that was the heart of the matter. Something much more serious was goading his anger.

The sound of the shower met her ears, a spark of relief at the brief reprieve more than welcome. She moved to her side of the bed and removed the thin belt which held her knuckle-buster knife, hidden by her cardigan. Despite her need to play a part to the citizens of the safe zone, there was no way she'd dare think to leave the house without some form of weapon. Removing the knife, she set it within reach on her nightstand before pulling her night clothes – a tank and a pair of thin cotton shorts – from a drawer on the dresser.

She tensed slightly as she heard the water cut off and the muffled banging of drawers and cabinets which ensued. Apparently, the hot water had done little to improve his mood. She'd just settled cross-legged atop the duvet with what was left of her body lotion when Daryl poked his still dripping head out the bathroom door, hand moving furiously back and forth as he brushed his teeth.

Carol met his gaze, unable to miss the virulent embers smoldering behind his eyes. Anyone who didn't know him as she did would have missed the pain and left the cry for understanding unheeded. She quickly rubbed the last of the lotion onto her hands and rose from the bed to follow him into the bathroom. There was little left of boundaries due to them sharing the room … and so much before with their constant wandering on the road.

Daryl met her eyes in the mirror, but he averted them quickly, the strokes of the brush becoming nearly violent as a touch of shame colored his cheeks.

She crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned against the counter. "You had a bad run," she said matter-of-factly, watching the muscles in his back and arms tense. "That was no reason to take out your anger on poor Tara."

His voice was a low growl as he reached for a t-shirt from the cabinet under the sink, pairing it with the tartan boxers he wore. "Everyone was s'posed t' get in an' get out, Carol. Me, Glenn, Rick, an' th' three idiots had th' little grocery store, Abraham an' Sasha had th' baby store, an' Tara an' Rosita had the lingerie store. Thirty minutes tops t' loot an' move on t' th' next three. The fuckin' strip mall wasn't that big. Only, when we came out t' switch, there was walkers." He ran a hand through his messy hair and shuddered. "Everyone fought, nothing we couldn't handle … 'cept th' girls weren't there. Deanna's sons, their friend … they fuckin' panicked an' Glenn almost got bit."

"But he's not," she insisted. "I saw him when the team returned. A little banged up, but, Daryl … he's ok."

He shot her a look of disgust and brushed past her into their bedroom. A hand rose to his mouth, his sharp teeth mutilating the cuticle around his thumb as he began to pace.

Carol followed him. "Daryl –"

"That ain't th' point!" he hissed, turning with panther-like grace to face her. "Those boys shouldn't've been there. Rosita and Tara shoulda been payin' more attention. My _friend_ coulda died while they were playin' with that trash."

She reached out to him, her small hands covering his biceps, the muscles flexing with unbridled tension as she caressed him, trying to soothe him. "If they had known, the girls would have come to your aid. You know that. It's unfair to blame them."

"We couldn't call out … woulda brought more, no doubt." He clenched his teeth, refusing to let go of his ire. "It was bad enough with Deanna's youngest boy screamin' like a little bitch. Knew it was gonna be FUBAR fucked from th' get-go."

Carol smiled. "I'm rather surprised you brought Aiden back in one piece, to be honest."

Daryl sighed and closed his eyes, giving himself over to her warm caress. He was such a softie where she was concerned. Carol had a way of cutting through the bullshit to put him at ease. "Still think it was stupid … bringin' back all that shit. Reminds me of Merle."

"Yeah?"

He nodded, looking away. "He was jus' as addicted t' porn as he was t' drugs an' drinkin'. Liked th' weird shit too." Her grin captivated him, and he had to fight to keep the serious expression on his face. "Never understood what he saw in all that. A real man don't need toys t' satisfy his woman." He could feel the tips of his ears burn when he realized what he'd said.

Carol breathed in sharply at his bold statement, heat coursing through her like a brushfire. She'd wanted him for so long, loved him for far longer than she could remember. He'd quickly gone from the man who provided for them, to someone who had risked his own life to save her daughter, to her dearest friend, to someone with whom she wanted to share her life and all which came in between. She'd kill for this man, die for him. He was the reason she'd been unable to leave the group behind and find some solitary place where she wouldn't have to watch her loved ones die, or have to kill to protect them. He had always been her reason to survive, to _live_.

She took a chance, trailing her hands up along his arms, her eyes becoming heavy and sloe-lidded as they came to rest against the side of his neck where his pulse beat rapidly. "Yeah? Show me," she challenged boldly, her own heart thundering with fear against her ribs, just waiting for him to reject her.

"Pfft," he scoffed, taking a step back just as she had known he would. It surprised her when he didn't break contact with her altogether, clasping her hands in his as they slid down his arms. "Stahp … I can't handle your games tonight, Carol."

Carol averted her gaze, her lower lip trembling. She was so tired of their misunderstandings, knowing she couldn't allow them to continue, but it was so hard to take that next step … the one which might push him away for good. "I've never played games with you, Daryl," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

 **A/n:** And once again, I failed to write a o/s. *sigh* Oh, well, I hope you all enjoyed this first part. Part two will be coming at you tomorrow. Thanks so much for reading! Also, I'd like to give a shoutout to my darling ponies CLADD and Geektaire for reading through and making sure I didn't totally lose my mind. And to my darling BettyBubble for cracking the whip and keeping me focused. My editor, my partner in crime, my BFF … she does it all. Love you, my darling!


	2. And the Walls Come Crumbling Down

Part II : And the Walls Come Crumbling Down

Daryl stared down at his woman, his gaze guarded, afraid to hope. His thumb skimmed over her knuckles as he shook his head slightly. "I didn't mean t' hurt your feelings, but y' ain't gotta pretend. It's ok that y' tease me sometimes … I know it ain't nothin' more than that."

Carol swallowed, her confidence shot as she peered up at him shyly from beneath her lashes. "Did you ever stop to think I might not be teasing? I … I've always wanted you."

He drew back sharply, letting go of her hands. "So, back at th' prison y' were lookin' for a quick fuck on top that bus? That what you're tellin' me? I cain't be that for y', Carol. Y' mean more t' me than that." He paced back and forth and pressed the heels of his hands against his weary eyes before facing her again. "Y' think I don't see how you've changed since I found y' again? I thought … I thought we could start over after the prison, after that clusterfuck at Terminus, put the past where it belongs an' have another chance." He sighed. "But y' cain't let it go."

A tear slipped unheeded from the corner of her eye, but she couldn't find it in herself to interrupt him, not when he was being so open.

Daryl tilted her chin up, unwilling to let her avoid his gaze. "Y' know what I thought of when I was on my knees waiting t' be carved up into barbeque fixin's? You! _You_ , Carol, an' all th' time I wasted not tellin' y' how I felt. When they took y' from me in Atlanta, I _wanted_ t' die, thinkin' y' was dead." He dropped his hands to his side, emotionally exhausted. "Now, y' don't even meet me at th' gate anymore. Y' keep pushin' me away, no matter what I do. So, no … I cain't give y' what you're askin'."

Carol reached for him, needing him to understand she hadn't meant to hurt him either. "I didn't think … If they knew – these people – how much you mean to me, they wouldn't buy into my act, Daryl. And I hurt you badly because of what I'm trying to do here." She reached for him, her fingers twisting in the soft cotton of his t-shirt. "Oh, god … I'm so sorry."

He watched her raise one hand, prying it loose from his shirt to cover her mouth, horrified over her own actions. Broken, hiccupping sobs burst past her lips, past her hand, her pain more than she could contain. His strong arms banded around her, helpless against her weeping. "Shh, I got y'."

"I'm so messed up," she wailed against his chest. She'd fought so long to bury her pain … Karen … David … her banishment … Mika … Lizzie … finding her family again, saving them … Beth, living on the road again … but she was defenseless when it came to the one man who could make her _feel._ "There's so much I've done. If you knew even half of it, you'd hate me."

Daryl brushed his lips over her brow, tightening his embrace, wanting her to feel safe in his arms. "Could never hate you," he assured her, rocking Carol ever so slightly as he tried to focus on what she needed rather than how perfectly she fitted against his body. "We've all done things since this all started we ain't proud of, Carol. Even _before_ th' outbreak for some of us," he muttered bitterly. "Y' ain't never judged me. Y' think I'd do that t' y'?"

Carol shook her head and sniffled. "I don't want you to hate me. I _do_ want to try … like we talked about in Atlanta … I just don't know how."

He pressed his brow to hers as she leaned back enough to look up and meet his gaze, not an inch of space left between them. It was more intimate than he'd ever allowed himself to get with anyone he'd ever known, and he trembled. "Let it go, sweetheart. I don't need t' know what y' did. Someday … when you're ready, an' y' wanna tell me, I'll be more than happy t' listen, but it still ain't gonna change how I feel about y'." He nuzzled his nose against hers, lips brushing as softly as butterfly wings, breathing in her exhale. "Let it go, an' let me love y' … th' right way."

"I don't want to lose you … I can't," she cried, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, clinging to him with all the desperation which had been driving her for so long. "It's why I've been pushing you away. I was scared to let you in, terrified if I did, I would lose you … the final nail in my coffin."

He didn't know how they'd gone from his anger over the run and his upset over what he deemed Tara and Rosita's stupidity, to a long overdue confession which would irrevocably change their relationship forever, but he wasn't going to lie to himself and say he wasn't thankful. Daryl had wanted this since he'd reunited with her after the Terminus debacle, and now it seemed he'd have his chance.

He knew what he wanted, what he needed deep down in his ragged soul, but how much was she willing to give? "Need y' t' tell me what y' want, Carol," he croaked, choked as he was with emotion. He buried his face against the crook of her neck, breathing in the lingering scent of her body wash and the unique undertones of warmth which was all her, the combination making his head swim with need. "Please … I jus' wanna make y' happy. I wanna see y' smile an' know y' really mean it. Want y' t' be mine … always."

"I'm broken."

"Naw … just a little bent. Nothin' that cain't heal over time … if you'll let me help y'." His lips feathered upwards until they caressed the shell of her ear, his warm breath raising gooseflesh along her bare arms. "Y' jus' gotta want it, Carol. I ain't goin' nowhere … not without y', not again. You're everything t' me."

Carol cradled his beloved face in her hands and ghosted a kiss across his lips. "I love you, Daryl. I always have," she breathed, her confession easing the unbearable knot of tension in her chest she lived with every day. "I want a life with you, I want to heal with you … I just want to _be_ with you."

Daryl crushed her to him, wondering if he should pinch himself to see if he was dreaming. Her lips were so soft as they met his in gentle sipping kisses, tentative and slow to get a feel for one another. It made him dizzy, his knees weak, the sensations coursing through him like nothing he'd ever felt before. He could count on one hand how many times he'd had sex – with fingers left over – the act never having been important to him … until Carol. She'd awakened the beast inside him, her sweet smiles and sparkling eyes captivating him, her friendship growing into something more. She'd created a bond between them and engaged his heart. _That_ was what he wanted more than anything … her love. And now he was bursting with happiness and unsure what to do about it.

That wasn't entirely true. Daryl was certain he wanted to spend hours exploring her flesh with his lips, teeth and tongue, however; he didn't want to scare her off. His woman was _not_ in a good place and needed a gentle hand … not some touch-starved asshole who would take, take, take and give nothing in return. He'd _never_ be like that, not with her.

Daryl caught her as her knees buckled, his arms secure around her waist. He was just as light-headed as she was, he was sure, breaking the kiss for some much-needed oxygen. "Lie down with me," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin as he moved to gently suck at the pulse frantically beating beneath her jaw. His lips turned up into a half-moon grin as a whimper escaped her throat at the loss of contact. He twined his fingers with hers, giving them a tug towards their bed. "Please …"

Carol followed him without question, lying on her side to face him as he turned to mirror her. She felt like a teenager with her first crush, but she wasn't about to let her nerves get in the way of being closer to him. She tugged on the hem of his t-shirt, azure orbs seeking permission. "Take this off? I want to feel you, Daryl."

It wasn't the first time she'd lain with him in that bed, Daryl preferring to sleep in nothing but a t-shirt and boxers. It had come as a shock to her senses the first time he'd done it, surprised he felt comfortable enough with her to shed some of his layers. The shirt was swiftly pulled over his head, unashamed to let her see his scars. No one else was privy to them, though Rick had seen them when Daryl had been injured searching for Sophia so long ago. And when they'd been forced to take to the road after Atlanta, he'd never allow anyone to go with him to wash … only Carol.

His gaze was guarded as she trailed her fingers from the waistband of his boxers up to the sharp contrast of his collarbones. She traced over each individual scar as he sank further into the mattress, relaxing beneath her gentle touch. He rolled onto his back, pulling her atop him to straddle his waist, giving her better access to his body.

Daryl threw an arm up behind his head, bunching the pillow as a small smile graced his lips. "Never could stand t' be touched before I met you," he confessed, watching her intently as she continued her gentle exploration. "After … growin' up th' way I did … " He shrugged. "Didn't want nobody puttin' their hands on me. Not even Merle." His fingers drew little patterns on her thigh, his appreciative stare never wavering. "Even at th' beginnin', I trusted y', knew you'd never hurt me."

Carol braced her weight on her hands positioned on either side of his head. "Never," she said softly, pressing her brow to his. "I'd never hurt you."

"You're so beautiful … _my_ woman," he growled low in his throat, in awe of her love for him. "Trust me … t' keep y' safe … happy … t' always make y' feel loved."

Carol shot him a watery smile, but there was nothing fake about it. Her walls came crashing down, leaving her pain behind and losing herself in the man she loved. He let her dominate the kiss, fighting against his nature to take control, sensing how important it was for her to feel empowered after decades of being beaten down by her husband. Daryl shivered as her tongue slipped past his teeth to duel with his, his body surging to life, heart threatening to thunder from his chest.

He felt his cock stir to life as her nails raked over his nipples, breaking the kiss to suck in a ragged breath. Gawd, had anything ever felt so good? He watched her eyes widen at his response, felt the heat of embarrassment color his cheeks, but his hands remained steady as they slid along her satiny thighs to rest on her hips. It was his turn to toy with the hem of her tank, twisting it around a lone finger and tugging gently.

"Wanna feel y', too," he whispered, hope shining in the deep depths of his smoky blue eyes.

Carol raked her tongue over her lower lip, his heady taste intoxicating, making her want more. Her hands trembled as she covered his, removing the fabric from his light grip. "I'm not … I've never been much to look at, and Ed wasn't kind, Daryl. I have scars, too," she mumbled so low he could barely hear her.

Daryl sat up and scooted back against the pillows, dragging her closer to him until she could feel the firm evidence of his desire for her. She didn't protest as he gripped the hem and pulled the shirt up and over her head, but she didn't dare to look at him, not wanting to see a sure rejection in his eyes.

His sloe-lidded gaze traveled over her in a loving caress, taking in every inch of her. Creamy shoulders with a light dusting of freckles gave way to sharp collarbones, reminding him she needed to eat more. It was going to take them all time to recover from the near starvation they'd faced on the road. She still bore bruises from when she'd been hit by the car; sickly yellow, purple and blue spread across her ribs. More across the still firm globes of her breasts with their dusky nipples. There were puckered scars near the waistband of her shorts, those he realized matched some of his, made by the fiery burn of a lit cigarette. Very faint stretch marks gave evidence to the fact she'd borne a child, and more of Ed's evil could be seen along her sides. He knew if he ran his hands along her bare back, he'd find scars very similar to his.

Carol gasped as he pulled her forward and dropped a lingering kiss between her breasts, his hands cupping the mounds gently to press them to his face. The look in his eyes as he finally lifted his gaze to hers could only be described as hopelessly devoted.

"Perfect," he breathed, his touch reverent as he circled a nipple with the tip of his index finger. "No matter how often I dreamed of what you'd look like under y' clothes, it never came close t' th' real thing. You're beautiful, sweetheart."

Another wall crumbled to dust, no hope of ever being rebuilt. She should have known better than to think he would care about her scars other than the pain they'd brought her. She threw her head back as his hot mouth closed over her breast, fingers never releasing its twin as he toyed with the ever-stiffening peak. A breathy moan tumbled past her lips as he switched, white-hot heat pooling low in her belly from the sinuous slither of his tongue. She'd never dreamed anyone would touch her with such gentleness and care, never make her feel desired and cherished.

A roll of her hips had him cursing and releasing her breast with a wet pop, pupils blown wide with desire as he met her heated gaze. "Do it again," he rasped, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he felt the heat of her core slide over his cock, the thin material of her shorts and his boxers little in the way of a barrier. She rolled slowly the third time, and his head slammed back into the headboard. "Goddamn!"

Daryl ignored the pain and reached for her again, his calloused hands gliding up her dewy back, becoming slick with the thin sheen of sweat now covering them both. She found a rhythm, thrusting herself down over his cock, and he knew if she didn't stop, they'd never get to the main event. He gripped her waist, breathing heavily with need as he rolled her onto her back and buried his face in the crook of her neck, trying his damnedest to rein in his flagging control.

Carol whined, hooking a leg over his hip, her hands roaming over his back as she thrust upwards, searching for friction. "Daryl …" she keened. "Please …"

He nodded, his head bouncing against her shoulder as he pushed himself up on his knees to reach for her shorts. He dragged them slowly down her legs, bringing her lacy underwear with them, prolonging her anticipation. As soon as he was able to toss them over his shoulder, Carol was reaching for him, fingers twisting into the waistband of his boxers and pushing them over his hips. His cock wept with joy of being free of its woven cocoon, and he sucked in a sharp breath, nearly choking as Carol's hot little hand wrapped around his length.

"Christ, woman!" he hissed, eyes rolling back in his head as she stroked him, her other hand latching onto his wrist to pull him closer.

"Don't make me wait," she panted, her eyes twin slits of need. "I need you inside me … _now_."

Jesus, just the raw passion contorting her features and the breathy little moans issuing past her rosebud lips had him wanting to come. He'd surely die once he was wrapped in her heavenly heat. He bit his lip … _hard_ , needing something to ground him. He could almost hear his brother laughing shrilly in his head, calling him every humiliating name in the book. He mentally flipped Merle off, thanking him for the metaphorical bucket of ice water to cool his ardor enough to please his woman.

He bit his lip as his fingers slid through her slippery folds, the smell of her arousal intoxicating, pride blooming in his chest with the knowledge he'd brought her such pleasure. Her back arched where she lay beneath him as the pad of his thumb brushed back and forth over her clit. Carol dug her nails into his biceps, clinging to him desperately, the word please silent on her lips repeated over and over again, begging him to end her torture.

Daryl cursed as he poised at her entrance, pain creasing the corners of his mouth. "I ain't got a condom," he groaned, moving to pull away, averting his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the disappointment wash over her features.

"I … haven't been with … anyone since … Ed, and I … can't have any more children, Daryl," she panted, her hips writhing helplessly, the leg she had thrown over his hip drawing him back to her.

He nodded, not wasting another moment, easing slowly into her silken heat. A collective moan hovered between them at the feeling of being completely joined. His woman … finally his, her warm wet walls clenching him tightly. He pressed a sweet kiss to her lips as he gave a tentative thrust, the need to move overwhelming. He moved slowly, terrified he'd hurt her somehow.

Daryl's eyes locked with hers, watching for any sign of discomfort and finding only acceptance, love, desire and passion. He skimmed his fingers over her hip, mapped the sweet dip of her waist and then covered her breast with his palm, squeezing before bringing it to his mouth. Carol arched into his touch, changing the angle and sucking him in deeper, his name a fervent plea on her lips.

She met his every thrust, seeking release, whimpering as his movements sped up to meet her unspoken demand. It built with every snap of his hips, lingering just out of reach until she was nearly ready to give up hope until it released like a coiled spring, a long low keen filling the room, waves of pleasure sending her spiraling into blissful euphoria.

Daryl gathered her tightly to his chest, giving in to the animal urge to claim her, fire crackling like an electric shock at the base of his spine, his stomach muscles clenching almost painfully as he let himself go.

He didn't know how long he lay there atop her, panting heavily against her throat, but he reveled in the feeling of her arms around him, her fingers carding through his long hair. "Y' know I love you, right?" he whispered against her lips as he braced himself on his elbows to kiss her, relishing the sweet taste of her.

Carol rolled with him, nestling into his side as he settled onto his back. She reached for the quilt folded at the end of the bed and pulled it over them. "I know … but it's nice to hear you say the words." She tucked her head beneath his chin and rested her ear over his heart. "I think we've always loved each other … we were just too afraid to admit it."

Daryl squeezed her hip gently and dropped a kiss to her crown. "I ain't afraid no more."

Carol yawned, feeling the pull of sleep tug at her senses. "Neither am I, Pookie. Neither am I."

*.*.*

Two days later …

Daryl scowled at Tara as they faced off across the kitchen island, neither wanting to break the awkward silence. Yet, he knew he had no choice but to apologize if he wanted to continue to keep his woman happy. Carol had gone off to do god knows what in the community, leaving him behind to deal with Tara, and she expected him to have it done before she returned. And considering he and Carol had spent the last two days locked in their bedroom, there was no conceivable way he was going to piss her off.

Tara gulped down the rest of her coffee, preparing to leave, unable to withstand the Dixon death glare a moment longer.

"Hey … uhm …"

Her eyes widened as she rose from her stool and took a step towards the sink. "Yeah? Something you need?" she asked hopefully. Perhaps he had a task in mind, something she could do to redeem herself in his eyes.

Daryl sighed and looked down at his hands where they rested on the granite countertop. "Look, I'm … I didn't mean t' go off on y' th' other day. Wasn't your fault." He peered up at her from beneath his lashes and gnashed his teeth. "I'm sorry."

"Carol put you up to that?" she asked, a small smile of surprise on her lips.

The hunter narrowed his eyes and growled menacingly low in his throat.

"There's no need to apologize, dude. We're good." She crossed her arms over her chest and averted her eyes to the tiles beneath her feet. "Me and Rosita … we shouldn't have taken so long in the store. It was stupid, and Glenn almost died … so, yeah … you had every right to be pissed."

Carol breezed through the back door, her steps faltering as she glanced between the two, never having seen them look so uncomfortable. "Hi … what's going on?" she asked cheerily, trying to break the tension.

Tara shot her a toothy grin and slipped her messenger bag over her shoulder. "Not a thing … just mending fences." She glanced over at Daryl who watched Carol warily. "Gotta go. Carol, will we see you later at the thing?" she asked, a mysterious tone in her voice.

Carol's eyes widened in warning as she shook her head. "N-No, I don't think so. Things to do," she evaded.

Daryl watched the girl leave, suspicious as to what that had been about. He didn't have time to dwell on it, however. He retrieved his crossbow and settled it onto his back, the fingers of his right hand toying with the strap. "Y' ready for our shift?"

Carol nodded and crossed over to him, raising up on her tiptoes to plant a fleeting kiss to his lips. It brought out his first smile of the day. He took a step back, taking in her white Henley and olive cargo pants with an appreciative gleam in his eyes, _his_ Carol shining through. He followed her out the door and onto the sidewalk, breathing in the fresh air and sunshine, reveling in the feel of nature caressing his skin.

She slipped her hand into his, twining their fingers. He'd been worried she would still want to hide their relationship from the townsfolk, but he could see clearly that wasn't the case.

"So, I talked to Aaron this morning," she hedged, glancing up at him to gauge his reaction. "He's still waiting on your answer about the motorcycle. I told him we'd be by this afternoon after our shift."

Daryl grunted in response as he stopped and looked down at her, a frown etched into his brow. "Why'd y' do that? What if he wants somethin' in return. I don't like t' be indebted t' anyone, Carol. Y' know that!"

She arched a brow and rubbed her thumb soothingly across his knuckles. "He wants you to be his recruitment partner."

He shook his head sharply. "Naw … ain't leavin' here for weeks at a time while you're stuck here with these untrained yahoos."

Carol smiled, the gesture soft and genuine, reminding him of their early days at the prison. "But see … if you agree, I won't be remaining here in Alexandria. I'll be going with you."

"What?"

"I don't want to be parted from you either, Daryl." She lifted her free hand to brush the hair away from his eyes, fingers gently trailing over his warm skin. "You want me to be myself … no more act, no more hiding … the real me. I can only do that if I'm with you."

"Y' really wanna do this? Leave th' safety of th' walls t' go out there with me?" he asked, trying to read his wily woman.

Carol slipped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his shoulder, uncaring of who might be watching. Her heart soared as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "I do, and I can't see you being cooped up behind these walls because of me. It would drive you crazy within a week. I like Aaron, but he isn't trained any more than the rest of the Alexandrians, and I want to make sure someone has your back. Who better than me?"

Daryl tucked her into his side and continued towards the wall. "And y' wanna start on th' bike t'night?" he asked, thoroughly liking the idea of her helping him build a new bike.

Her grin was just a little too bright. "No time like the present," she chirped.

"A'right," he nodded, stepping onto the bottom rung of the ladder after her. "So, what's this _thing_ goin' on t'night? Wouldn't have anythin' t' do with all those sex toys piled up in th' hall closet, would it?"

Carol groaned. "Well … about that …"


End file.
